I’ve got to sleep. Sleep is my only way to escape.

I pretend I've got lots of confidence and I'm a big jock and like that but deep inside I'm a frightened, insecure, can't-make-it failure.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

I can't believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it's only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.

I would like to stay stoned all the time, it scares me it’s so good. I would like to stay stoned every minute of every day for the rest of my life.

This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, "Come straight home after school." Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.